A story of a Man and his Quest for True Happiness
by Cheeseburger of Doom
Summary: [title as chosen by my sister] Echizen thinks he might need lessons to improve his conversational skills. [kiriryoryokiri?]


A/N: I don't own anything, this one's for Aishuu, it's short and silly, and have a nice day.

Echizen Ryoma had never been very big on conversation, which was why he was thoroughly annoyed with his current situation. Kirihara Akaya had called him out here -- to talk. What could he possibly want to talk about? Echizen could think of absolutely nothing he wanted to say to Kirihara, except for maybe a "madda madda da ne", but that was just standard.

Echizen waited for Kirhara to speak. Then he waited more, because Kirihara was apparently having difficulty with the use of his vocal chords. Echizen squashed the sudden urge to start chanting "You can do it! I know you can!" because that would have been terribly out of character, not to mention a disgusting waste of his breath.

"You!" Kirihara said finally, pointing at Echizen with a trembling finger. Perhaps he was angry, or excited -- hopefully just angry.

Echizen blinked. Yes, he knew who he was, and he was sure that Kirhara knew who he was, so what was the problem?

"Tell me all of Fuji's secrets!"

"…" Echizen took a moment to wonder what Kirihara had consumed for breakfast that morning. He blinked a few more times, and watched as Kirihara flopped about like a fish out of water. Theoretically flopped that is; he stayed right where he was, but it was obvious that he was suffering from confusion.

"Well?" Kirihara demanded.

"What makes you think I know all of Fuji-sempai's secrets?" Echizen asked.

It was Kirihara's turn to blink a few times. "I tried to force him to tell me, but he just smiled at me and told me to ask someone else. He suggested you."

"…" Echizen shook his head at the sheer stupidity of it all. He really should have stayed at home in bed with Karupin curled up beside him. He could almost hear his bed calling now… "Ryoma. Come home, Ryoma."

"So tell me all of his secrets!" Kirihara was pointing his finger again. Echizen felt a "madda madda da ne" coming on, but decided to go a different route, just this once.

"I don't know Fuji-sempai's secrets," he said.

"Then why did he tell me to ask you?" Kirihara demanded.

Echizen shrugged. "He was just trying to get rid of you, probably."

Kirihara did the flopping fish routine once again, and made a few various squeaking noises. Then he sat on the ground and pouted like a five year old. Echizen watched with some degree of fascination; he had expected Kirihara to run over and bite him after hearing that news, given all that he knew about the guy.

"I want to beat that guy," Kirihara whined. "I want to find out his real abilities and then kick his ass."

Echizen snorted. Kirihara would have to get in line for that one. "Madda madda da ne," he said.

"What, you don't think I can do it?" Kirihara demanded.

Echizen just shrugged. Kirihara didn't really have much of a chance against Fuji, even if Fuji played as flippantly as always, but he wasn't about to start an argument. He just wanted to go home and sleep.

"Let's play a game right now!"

What? No, this wasn't in Echizen's plan. He didn't want to play tennis, he wanted to sleep --

"Or are you afraid you'll lose?"

Well, that did it. Echizen had to play him now. Damn it all.

Kirihara was definitely a good player, even though his eyes had the tendency to turn red as he played. Echizen thought that Fuji had knocked that particular feature out of him, but old habits died hard, he supposed.

After Echizen had thoroughly beaten Kirihara and left him to cry about it in the dust, he had a sudden revelation. Fuji never did anything without a reason. Could it be that he actually thought that Echizen knew a little bit about him? Or was it the opposite, and he thought that Echizen didn't have a clue so it would be safe to send Kirihara to him?

Or, worst of all -- did Fuji have some kind of master plan involving the end of all mankind?

"I have to admit you're good," Kirihara said, apparently trying to be a graceful loser, "But I'll beat you next time!"

Wait, next time?

"Madda madda da ne." Yes, that was the standard answer. Echizen wondered if he needed some lessons on conversation skills. That way he might have been able to refuse Kirihara at that point, and he wouldn't have found himself playing matches against him regularly ever afterwards -- and maybe if he'd had skills for conversation, he wouldn't have been inspired to do what he did next.

Kirihara was rather surprised to receive a kiss from Echizen Ryoma, out of the blue with no warning whatsoever, for no apparent reason -- maybe tennis turned Echizen on? In that cause, wouldn't he have been in a constant state of -- no, he didn't really want to think about it. Yet.

"!!!" exclaimed Kirihara, after shoving Echizen away. "!!!"

Echizen smirked. "I'll see you next time," he said, and then he walked away, in true Echizen form. He went home to his bed, where sleep came easily to him, though his dreams were plagued with glowing red eyes. He really needed to stop watching late night cheap horror movies.

Kirihara went home and tried to figure out why the hell the brat had decided he could get away with kissing him, and began to plan how to exact his revenge, mwahahaha. It didn't occur to him that it might have been a little unusual to have that revenge revolve around whips, chains and whipped cream.

Echizen Ryoma awoke in a cold sweat from a terrible nightmare. He was screaming. He had just realized -- that Fuji Syusuke had sent Kirihara to him because he was playing matchmaker. And if Fuji had decided he liked playing matchmaker, then who would he pair up next? Names and faces flashed before Echizen's eyes in various orders that left his stomach reeling.

The world was no longer safe.

the end


End file.
